Chapter Ten
HARPER
I flexedmy toes in the sand of Siesta Sunset’s beach, absorbing the sun-warmed grains as Finn shot past me. He dragged Chase toward the water’s edge by the hand, his bright green snorkel and mask bobbing like antennae. Chase, relaxed and effortless in board shorts—not to mention breathtaking—glanced over and waved at me.
It will be fine, I reminded myself as I lifted my hand in return. Nothing like diving headfirst into a casual family outing with the man who’d haunted my thoughts and my body since our date at Orchid two weeks ago. And in that time, Chase had slowly introduced himself into our lives. Now it was time for the next step—melding together.
As Finn let go to dash along the shore, I studied Chase’s easy demeanor. My heart did a little squeeze, hope and anxiety wrestling each other like the WWE. I’d sat Finn down the day after our date at Orchid and explained that Chase and I had becomevery special friends, and that Finn would be seeing him more. My sweet boy’sface had lit up like I told him he’d won a year’s supply of LEGOs. And now this fun snorkeling and beach trip was a test of my heart’s ability to handle this not-so-casual outing. I recalled Brenna’s words to relax for once and enjoy the moment. At the time, it had seemed such an easy thing to do. And I had, both during the date and the night after.
Especially the night after.
“Chase, look!” Finn crouched to poke at a patch of seaweed or maybe a washed-up sand dollar. He had his explorer face on—intense, delighted, ready to share his findings. Chase hunkered next to him, never rushing.
“Ready for your briefing, troops?” Eli’s voice carried over the waves. He was striding toward us in bare feet and his dive instructor persona, a towel slung over one shoulder like a sash. “Okay, Ashworth. Currents are negligible, visibility is excellent. Primary hazard: six-year-old with excessive enthusiasm.” He fixed Chase with a look, all mock-seriousness. “Rule number one: Don’t let him try to snorkel upside down to look at crabs. Rule number two: Don’t lose my nephew. Rule number three: Seriously, don’t lose him.”
Chase grinned. “Got it. Protect the nephew at all costs.”
Shading his forehead with his hand, Eli inspected the reef visible below the rippling surface. “Don’t go out too far. Little dude might get tired out.”
“Eli,” I said and even managed to keep from slugging him. “I have taken my son snorkeling multiple times on this very reef. More than you.”
“Doesn’t mean you know what you’re doing,” he muttered.
Finn started giggling. “You’re silly, Uncle Eli.”
Folding his arms, the dive instructor stared down at my son. “What’s our rule?”
Finn arranged his face in a polite enough expression. “Diving or snorkeling is fun, but it’s also very serious.”
“My man!” The two high-fived.
“I think we got the important details,” Chase interjected before Eli could derail us any further. “Anything else, Captain?”
“Yeah,” Eli said, turning to me with a teasing glint in his eye. “Sure you don’t want me to chaperone? Make sure you guys don’t get lost down there?”
Chase and I exchanged a glance, and the laugh we shared eased some of the knots in my chest. “Get lost!” I said as Chase added, “Go find Jules.”
Eli left us with a satisfied smirk, his lanky stride carrying him back up the beach. I shook my head, grateful for his antics and the noticeably reduced tension in my shoulders. I didn’t want a chaperone. I wanted a chance. Maybe Eli’s protective big-brother act had been a little over the top, but it reminded me what was on the line.
“Come on, come on!” Finn’s voice was a bubbling fountain of enthusiasm, and even the Florida sun couldn’t match his brightness.
I gave him an okay signal as I lowered my mask onto my face. “Looks like we’re ready!”
We waded into the gentle sea, and the clear turquoise water wrapped around our legs. The surface shimmered like a jewel. Finn splashed ahead, a blur of yellow rash guard and excitement. “I see fish already!”
Chase fell in step beside me, and the nearness of him sent another round of thrills through me. Especially after he held a steadying hand to my lower back. “This was a good idea.”
“Finn certainly thinks so. Hold up there!” When Chase and I caught up, we dipped under a wave, the water warmand clear. It felt like diving into more than the ocean—like diving into hope.
The world beneath the water was otherworldly, bright, captivating. Chase and Finn were ahead of me, their silhouettes darting like two overgrown fish. They moved in tandem, Chase pausing to point at a green sea fan, Finn practically vibrating with delight. I hovered a little behind, caught in the pull of watching them fit so naturally.
It was the exact kind of family outing I’d never let myself imagine. Even though I’d initiated it, being here now felt surreal, like a movie I’d watched but wasn’t supposed to be in. Yet there they were—Chase and Finn, both absorbed, moving together in a dance as old as my fears.
A glimmer of blue parrotfish caught my eye, its scales reflecting the sunlight filtering through the water like living stained glass. The fish darted between coral formations, its beak-like mouth nibbling at the reef. I kicked my fins, moving closer to where Chase and Finn were examining a cluster of sea anemones.
I tapped Finn’s shoulder and pointed toward the vibrant fish. His eyes widened behind his mask. When we surfaced a moment later, he sputtered with excitement.
“Mom! Did you see how blue it was? And its mouth looked like a parrot!”
